


Still In Training

by bbvhrla



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Collars, Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Top!Stiles, bottom!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bbvhrla/pseuds/bbvhrla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're still figuring out the best way to enjoy their kinks</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of talk about bottom!derek on tumblr and I've basically had nothing else on my mind since...so here we are.

“No.”

Derek looked up to Stiles shaking his head, and frowned.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to. Come on, dude,” and he smacked the plain black collar Derek had been eyeing with the back of his hand. “There’s no way that lady is going to want that on her poodle. We need, like, rhinestones or something.”

“I wasn’t - “

“I mean, if you want it for yourself I’m down, but, like, we’ll come back, we so don’t have time.”

And _that_ was interesting. Stiles voice was all tuned up and down the way it went every time he was trying to make a joke, but after he spoke his heartbeat went a little wild. Derek raised an eyebrow.

Stiles was right, they were in a bit of a rush. The women whose new dog Scott was currently grooming had thrown a fit when she learned they didn’t have any collars for sale at the Deaton’s place. Apparently the ten minute drive to PetSmart was too much for her, but she’d offered a tip, and Derek wasn’t complaining. Stiles had spent the whole drive over contemplating just how much Five Guys they’d be able to afford.

“Girly stuff, Derek,” Stiles grabbed his arm, dragging him down the aisle. “Pink, fluffy, let’s go.”

He tried not to let the fact that the back of Stiles’ ears were still pink distract him, and even though he was nodding in numb agreement to whatever Stiles ended up choosing, his eyes kept roaming back to the far side of the store, a hand, subconscious, squeezing folds into the skin of his neck.

 

“I was serious, you know,” Stiles said later on. They were sitting on the hood of the camaro, slurping some ice-cream from their leftover hamburger funds, the poodle taken care of and the crisis they’d originally gone to talk over with Scott resolved.

“You’re never serious.”

“You were looking at that collar like it was cake, dude.”

“Stiles - “

“I know, no dog jokes. I swear you brought this one on yourself.”

“What? No - it’s not a dog thing.”

Stiles was silent for a moment, miraculously, just watching Derek stare at his ice cream. It was a short moment.

“Dude, elaborate. Words, we talked about this, remember?”

“If you don’t get it Stiles, things are gonna get weird pretty fast.”

“If I don’t get what? Submission? You’ve seen my internet history, pretty sure this isn’t the first I’ve heard of it.” He looked over to Derek, with an expression a little more serious. “It’s not that weird of a thing to be into.”

He was frowning, he knew it, never had gotten over that inability to talk about himself, but Stiles had always been easier to talk to than anyone else he knew.

“Laura - she was the one who figured it out. I mean, jesus, not sexually - I just, I used to get nightmares, really bad ones when I was a kid, and she was already learning from our parents all this alpha prep stuff, how to control the pack, how to...be dominant, I guess. I would have an episode and she would just...she wouldn’t let me. But, it’s not just about doing what someone else says. It’s - it’s like doing something well, and you don’t have to worry about the right and wrong of it. You have to be really careful, though, it’s pretty easy for things to get messed up.” He kicked a leg out, letting it fall with the dropped train of thought, back against the mask of the car with a _thunk_. “I didn’t really get collars till we were in New York, but when I did, it was kind of a revelation.”

“You _do_ want one.”

“No, Stiles, it’s not just about the collar. There’s gotta be someone who can lead you, you know?”

“A dom.” Stiles’ voice was almost at a whisper. Then, “I could do that.”

His heart was skipping like a record when he said it, but Derek couldn’t let the rush of affection he felt cloud his better judgement.

“It’s not that easy, Stiles.”

“But I can learn.”

Derek wasn’t sure when they’d come so close, it was such a natural shift by now. Stiles reached out, fingers of one hand twisting through the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck as he used the other to grip Derek’s jaw, light, and turn his head so they were facing. Derek bit his lip as the hand on his jaw lowered, thumb pressing soft into the flesh below his chin.

“I want to,” Stiles said, pressing a kiss onto Derek’s forehead, his cheek, his parting lips. “Let me do this for you.” And god, he was smart, already using commands, Derek knew it was on purpose. His heartbeat was almost at pace with Stiles’ now, and with the hand on his neck, he knew Stiles could feel it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Why is it curved like that?”

“It’s - so it can get to the good parts. What do you mean anyway, what happened to Mr. Sex Expert: New York?”

Derek frowned.

“New York was collars, Stiles. I didn’t - we didn’t have toys.”

His voice was a little low, lying on his stomach with his head and arms resting on a pillow. He was wearing the collar Stiles had bought already, tight around his neck like a choker but he looked so fucking content. Stiles shifted from his indian-style seat on the floor to pick up the box, studying it close.

“It has five functions - five _powerful_ functions. ‘Vibration, pulsation, escalation.’ ”

Derek grunted.

“What’d you get for you?”

“I - “ He dug down to the bottom of the backpack he’d brought, past the condoms and the change of clothes to the flat, kind of greasy nothing at the bottom. “Shit.”

“What?”

“There were two bags, I think I left the other one at home.”

“What was in it?”

“Lube. And, uh, I got a cock ring.”

“A cock ring?” There was a bit of a laugh in Derek’s throat, and Stiles kicked him light in the shoulder.

“Ok big guy, not everybody has your werewolf stamina.”

“It’s not a werewolf thing,” he muttered into the pillow, and Stiles snorted, dumping the backpack upside down and shaking everything out.

“Stiles,” Derek was watching him, “how much money did you spend on all this?”

“I don’t know, man. I think those chicks must work on commission.”

He let himself fall forward, legs sprawling out behind him as he pressed his nose into Derek’s spine.

“I think you’ll be fine without the ring.”

“What about the lube?” There was a pause, likely because his face was still pressed into Derek’s back and the words came out all kinds of muffled.

“Uh - I don’t know,” Derek said. “We can improvise, I guess? Or - I think I might still have a little left.”

“Really?” Stiles sat up.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s that stuff you said tasted like cinnamon - “

“Ugh.” He ran his hand furiously through his hair a few times, and then, thank god, had a unexpected stroke of genius. “Derek, I have a plan.”

After a moments pause, Derek turned a little to look back at him. His skin was already a little red around the edges of the collar.

“Do I get to hear it?”

“No. I mean, you can tell me, as we go, if you don’t like it.”

Derek looked forward again, and something in his shoulders went loose.

“Ok.”

Stiles sat up, inching around on his knees until he was behind Derek, in between his splayed legs. He nudged Derek’s hips, which lifted obligingly, and slipped his thumbs in-between the skin and sweatpants, pulling them down slow. He stopped just enough to bare Derek’s ass, the cloth still bunched up beneath him around his cock. It wasn’t cold in the room exactly, but there were goosebumps already forming on Derek’s skin. Stiles took a moment, a long, self-indulgent moment, to admire the view.

The lube was buried in the bathroom cabinet, plenty left in the bottle because last time they’d used it, it made him want to sneeze. Normally he’d turn up his nose, but, desperate times and all.

Derek was right where Stiles had left him, chin propped on his crossed arms, hugging the pillow into the space under his collarbone. Stiles knelt behind him again, running his hands up underneath the thin cotton of his shirt, pressing his fingertips into the patterns of muscle. When his hands had warmed a little he bent down, and with a one spreading each cheek, ran a slow lick down the line of Derek’s spine, all the way down to his hole.

“ _Fuck_ , Stiles,” Derek breathed, jerked as Stiles curled tongue pressed into him. They’d done rimming once before, but it was pretty heat of the moment, and Stiles had been aching to try it again ever since. He stilled his tongue, however, at the sound of Derek’s voice, and pinched the skin of his inner thigh, not too hard, but hard enough.

“No talking,” and the strength with which he spoke the command surprised him. That would be easy enough, Derek wasn’t exactly verbose, and Stiles bit his lip.

“Or growling.”

At that he set his tongue to work again, massaging Derek’s cheeks and his twitching thighs, knowing his fists were clenched in the pillow against his face.

It wasn’t long before his stretched jaw demanded a recess, tongue a little tired (and oh, how he’d like to prove to every teacher he’d ever had that it _was_ possible). He sat back on his heels, spattered some lube on his fingers and hooked them in slow. Derek hadn’t made a noise yet, but his body was responding in other ways, heavy breathing and curling toes. Stiles worked him open, and the lube helped but they were definitely going to have to shower later because he was so not done with rimming for the night.

Finally, when he thought Derek was ready, he nudged the vibrator, slathered up with a pretty generous amount of lube, against the hole.

“That’s good,” he said, a hand massaging Derek’s lower back through the initial tension and the release. He went slow on purpose, sneaking a peek up past Derek’s shoulders, watching his head press harder into the pillow, collar sitting light on the stretched part of his neck. He turned the vibrator on about halfway up, eyes wide at the sound of Derek’s hiss.

At first Derek didn’t respond to Stiles insistent hands; it wasn’t until he said “Up,” with a tug on the collar, that he finally got some movement. One hand on the collar, the other circled around Derek’s waist, Stiles pulled him up to kneel with his back pressed against Stiles chest, and Stiles back against the wall.

“How do you feel?” Stiles asked, and when Derek merely nodded he remembered he’d forbidden him from speaking. _We won’t change that just yet._

“Ok.” As hard as it was, because _jesus_ it felt good to be sandwiched there, Stiles untangled himself to dig through the pile of crap he’d dumped from his backpack, and in his absence Derek pressed back against the wall himself.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to go get the rest of our stuff, and you - ,” he held up the roll of thick-cut ribbon he’d produced, “are going to stay here.”

It was a pretty incredible feat for Derek to, with a raised eyebrow and quirk of his lips, convey a convincing expression of disbelief even with a vibrator purring up his ass.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Stiles said. He coaxed Derek’s arms up as he spoke, tying his wrists, crossed, to the collar behind his neck. “What’s a bit of ribbon against my supernatural strength?”

He squeezed Derek’s biceps at this, light fingers tracing the outline of his bulging muscles.

“That’s the point. I’m relying on you - on your self-control,” and the way he shifted at that, the way he seemed to just sink into it, left Stiles a little giddy. “Think you can do that? Be a good boy and not move till I get back?”

His nostrils flared a little, but he nodded again.

“Ok.”

Stiles was going to leave, about to turn away but instead he ended up kneeling, cupping Derek’s head between his hands and running his fingers along the edge of the collar.

“Derek,” he leaned forward, speaking right into Derek’s ear, and at his words Derek bit his lip white. “You know how much I like to make you come, how much I like the taste of you.”

He pressed his forehead against Derek’s, squeezing his cheeks until he opened his eyes again.

“If you’re good, you won’t move, but I’ll be so, so happy if you don’t come till I get back. Think you can do that?”

Derek met his gaze, finally, heavy lids flickering, but he nodded, and Stiles grinned.

“We’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

(don't leave people tied up youse guys. it's **bad bad bad**.)


	3. Chapter 3

It was almost midnight by the time Stiles’ dad was drunk enough to pass out on the couch. Apparently forgetting you’d promised to pick up the neighbor’s kid from school and having in your hand a bag from _Passion Parties_ containing a cock ring and a 12oz bottle of lube when your dad walked in the door, furious, to remind you was enough of a reason for a grounding. He hadn’t actually looked in the bag, thank god, but his anger and Stiles’ panic combined for a pretty intense yelling match, so when he snuck out, Stiles made sure the door clicked shut quiet behind him.

He had to fight the urge to speed all the way over to the loft. Derek hadn’t been answering his phone, but Stiles had been gone so long, he’d probably just taken care of himself and fallen asleep. _So much for our night of kinkdom_. But Stiles was still pretty wired, and maybe waking Derek up with kisses would be enough to get him some forgiving late night action.

He didn’t bother with the buzzer - Derek had given him a key months ago, back when they’d finally admitted to a few unresolved feelings, and hadn’t _that_ been a hell of a night. Stiles frowned outside the door; he could see under the frame that the lights were still on inside, and a familiar panic hit him. _Was he just ignoring my calls? Is he pissed?_  A part of him wanted to turn around, speed back home and crawl up in a ball in his bed, but hell, they’d committed to something, and commitment meant fighting out problems instead of running away.

He opened the door, and a part of him broke a little, because there was Derek, exactly where Stiles had left him. He was beta-wolfed out, fangs and sideburns and a sweat soaked shirt that was clinging nicely to his shaking abs. His eyes had snapped up when Stiles walked in, yellow and wild and Stiles could barely believe it.

“Look at you,” he breathed, and the whine that came from Derek’s throat, the way his back went straight, neck tilting back, all brought Stiles to his knees in front of him.

“Look at you,” he said again, kissing the curve of Derek’s shoulder, the tense muscles of his arm as Derek buried his face into Stiles’ neck. “You’ve done so well, jesus, Derek, I can’t believe you haven’t come yet.”

“Can I?” It was quiet, pressed against his neck with a kiss, and Stiles breathed deep. _You’re the dom you’re the dom you’re the dom._

“No.” Derek stilled slightly at the word from where he’d been pressing into Stiles’ chest, and Stiles pulled back, no longer straddling Derek’s folded knees. He lifted Derek’s shirt, kissing a line down the salty sweat on his chest in-between every couple of words. “You remember why we did this? Why I asked you to wait?”

He looked up to catch Derek’s nod, head tilted back into the cradle of his arms, and Stiles traced light fingers down Derek’s sides.

“Tell me. Say it.”

Derek swallowed, like talking was too much, but he did it.

“You like my taste.”

“That’s right,” Stiles said, and he slipped Derek’s sweatpants down the rest of the way off his hips, freeing his leaking cock. He bent down and licked it, slow, tongue curling around the sides, and Derek’s groan was broken by hitching breaths.

He was loving this, loving all the little noises Derek was making, and he waited until Derek was distracted enough before he pressed a hand hard into Derek’s chest, lifting him enough to snake his other arm under and, with one swift movement, pulled out the plug. Derek jerked his hips, almost choking Stiles and Stiles, for a second, had to break off. He let Derek’s breathing calm a bit, studying the scene splayed out before him.

“I wanna finger you,” he said finally. “Can you take it?”

He could feel Derek shifting above him, looked up just in time to catch the end of a nod, the strained, affirmative “mmm,” that came out after.

“Of course you can,” he said, nibbling at Derek’s thighs, pressing him up against the wall to free up some room. “You’re doing so well, Derek, you have no idea how good you look right now.”

Derek hummed again at this, his breathing picking up again as Stiles took his cock in his mouth, working it till he could taste the salty pre-cum on his tongue. It was only then he snaked a finger in, another soon after because Derek was so open, he could go deep. Derek bucked there, and Stiles jumped, his rhythm breaking, because Derek’s hand was in his hair, gripping it tight. It loosened when he stopped, faltering off. Stiles sucked one long mouthful all the way to the end with a flick of his tongue up the slit.

“It’s ok,” he said, pulling Derek’s hand back to his hair. “I want you touching me, you’re so fucking perfect, you knew just what I wanted.”

It wasn’t long after that Stiles could feel Derek’s go loose, his movements losing what control he had left.

He pulled off then, pulled his fingers out and straightened up, pressing a sloppy kiss into Derek’s unsuspecting mouth as he circled Derek’s cock in the curve of his palm.

“Are you ready?” His lips were raw but he mouthed hard on Derek’s neck. “Are you gonna come for me?” Derek nodded into him, Stiles could taste the vibrations in his throat, and it only took a few short flicks of his wrist before Derek was coming into his hand.

He slumped back after, watching with lidded eyes as Stiles licked his hand clean before diving in for a heavy kiss.

“That was incredible,” Stiles breathed, and Derek pulled him in to straddle him, nudging kisses along his neck, his collarbone.

“Where were you?”

“My dad kind of caught me with all that stuff.”

“Jesus, Stiles.”

“I know.” He deflated a little. “I should probably get back, he’s gonna be pissed if he wakes up and I’m not there.”

Derek’s hands tightened on his hips, and Stiles bit his lip, when the _hell_ did his jeans get so tight.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Derek growled into his neck. “Did you bring that cock ring?”

“I - no, confiscated. But, hey,” Stiles hands moved up to his neck, fingering the line of the collar, “I thought it turned out pretty good, anyway.”

“You didn’t even get off.”

“You did. Pretty magnificently if I do say so myself.”

Derek was looking at him with an expression almost like surprise, and Stiles cocked his head and leaned in, pecking a kiss.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just…” The expression disappeared as he looked down and Stiles followed his gaze, to where they were pressed against each other, shirts catching on sweaty shirts, and ok maybe his hips were a little restless. Derek looked back up and his arms, encircling Stiles, tightened just a little. “Stay? For a while, at least, just stay.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

Just realized that the abbreviation for the title is 'SIT', not on purpose but i'm so very pleased. Say hi on [tumblr](http://hermajestieship.tumblr.com/) :)


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